Just like Last Year
by Zarichka
Summary: It's been 71 years since the attack on Pearl Harbor. Cursed, America is forced to rewatch the tradgety every year. Maybe the snow is doing something to him or perhaps he's losing his mind. Rated M for slight gore... Crappy.


I have a feeling that I'm mentally messed up... Enjoy (if you can)...

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_Again. Just another thing to feel down about I suppose. December 7__th__ has seemingly scraped forwards again. It happened 71 years ago huh? Yes, I do remember exactly what happened those many years ago. A monster erupted deep inside a fellow nation but of course it's not like this hasn't happened before. War is part of being a country. It can't be changed nor stopped. It's sad really and truly. But no matter. Just like air I will just continue. I __**always**__ continue._ America danced his icy glare around himself. These days were the type that ingested every word he would have said the entire day. Like some kind of instinct, he avoided everyone. Every country had their mourning days.

_Japan… A weapon of pure destruction with a cute face. Aren't we all? If are to call yourself harmless then you are quite a foolish liar. Humans aren't animals so they can't release their dire need to kill._ America leaned harder against the tree behind him. _But we aren't human, we harm and laugh too. Are we animals? No we aren't… By standing alone we cause each other pain through competition. We ourselves are the reasons we can't flourish. But, 71 years ago Japan struck against me. He tore me down and killed over two thousand of my people. He decided that he was no longer going to stand for my indecisiveness in this little pity party humans some call World War II._

Quietly, the blonde nation snuck down to the sight in which everything occurred that morning so long ago. What people don't consider about nations is what they are forced to mentally sit through. A private secret held at the tips of their tongues. After years of humans walking their soil, something clicked. They can feel death and new life occasionally. It may be as small as finding a smile gracing their lips to signal that a baby was born or a slight shiver down their spine to indicate that someone in their lands had just died. But wars are completely different. He doesn't feel a small tingle here and there during wars; it's usually much more… His hands gripped the snow patch he was sitting in. Now he must replay every death like a movie clip. His head felt heavy so he collapsed onto his side in the snow.

America grinded his teeth while raking and clawing against the frosted over earth. Almost against his will, his head replayed all those deaths one by one. _Just like the last 71 years…_ First the young girl and her father blowing up as their blood sprayed against the walls and floors. Then the next dozen of workers ending in the same fate. Severed and burned limbs scattering around as more and more people died. Blackened scraps of bones abandoned by the skin that melted into nothing. Some died as walls and ceilings crushed their bodies splattering their organs like bugs in runny messes before burning to crisps. Most people cried out their sufferings much to the mentally suffering nation's distaste. Instead of sounding like an army of cries it was like one continuous scream until all that was left was large blood stains. His azure eyes could no longer see reality and he watched all 2,402 deaths and 1,282 people receive horrid wounds. The buildings were smothered and the last sounds of the awful dream were the blaring ambulances. _They're too late… much too late…_

Light pierced his sights and he came back to the current world. Just like last year, the memory folded itself up and sunk away from the surface of his brain. His body kicked back into gear like a jolt. His nerves recovered and were immediately stabbed by the numbness of the snow he was still lying in. A warm spot flowed down the side of his face. He must have been crying but he wasn't one hundred percent sure. On the actual morning that the actual event happened something inside him must have recorded it all, because for these next years he stays alone scrutinizing the same event over and over again. Consider him cursed. The frost began to feel similar to an entity of stabs_. Like thousands of little knives… one for every person I couldn't save that day…_

_I still have yet to do much about that event. I should have struck back at Japan stronger than I did. I could have fixed things better and stronger than I did but I didn't take out my revenge as much as I wanted. Now here I am. Again another December 7__th__ has passed over me. _America sighed and simply continued resting painfully. If only he were human. A small smirk forced its self to form as his thoughts tangled into knots. Here he was again, thinking the same things. _Just like last year and the years before_. _His curse was to regret all those deaths every year on this accursed day and wish the worst to befall him. _His common sense thoughts were someplace that he couldn't pinpoint. _Japan deserves whatever awful karma that's headed his way_. He just needed to wait for nature to take its turn of events against the demon of the country he thought he knew. Sensibility was gone, leaving his thoughts cold like the sea of snow surrounding him.

He was probably harming himself but he'd yet to find any reason to care. _No we aren't animals or humans. We aren't anything like either of them_. _We're unstable. Masochistic and cold. _By now he was so numb that if he were a normal human would have died by now. _In my crown, I am king. I love their endless worshipping. _The attack on Pearl Harbor was seventy-one years ago. _I am roar, a dinosaur, and I'll never go extinct. _Seventy-one years of focused hatred. _So don't. _And probably more years to come. _Mess. _Cursed of the shame for so long. _With. _One of the most unforgettable parts of the whole war. _Me. _America smiled calmly. _Of course, it's just like last year and next year. I __**always **__continue._

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Uh... yeah... I wasn't really sure what to do for the title, oh well. My first attempt at gore, (which I have no experience with.) I do NOT mean to offend anyone with this story, so I'm sorry if you're feeling a bit offended :) I do not know the teeny tiny details about the bombing so if I'm wrong with anything, deal with it, k? This is a drabble thingy so I don't care if it's screwy-ishly wrong in the flimsy stuff if you wanna scream at me about that, but concrete critiques are very helpful~! Bye readers~!

Yeah I've been addicted to the song "Don't Mess With Me" by Temposhark.

Disclaimer: Does it look like I could POSSIBLY own anything? Yeah I didn't think so either.


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